"You use me for my money"
I was once told
I don't want your money
I want your time
I want the hands on your clock
Which are priceless
Ticking forever
The only emotion you know
is money
You don't understand love
You don't have the capacity to love
Not even to love me
You give me nothing
I reach out to everyone but you
You're my last choice
Yet you let me down every time
Just give me that hour
My expectations should be low
Yet they stay high
For, I love you
And that won't change
Just give me that minute
To talk with you
To bond with you
To love you
Why do these tears build-up
Just to fall down my face
And never been seen again
Never to be seen by you
Nor your worthless face
I feel stupid
Though I know
Money is all you have
Money is all you know
The clock ticks slowly
And leaves me alone, to question
"Is my love worthless?"
YOU ARE READING
Alone
PoetryAn eclectic collection of my poetry; hopefully, you will find what you need. Cover: Dionysus Torso at Fenway Court, 1902 by Andreas Martin Andersen.
